Oh What A Wonder!


So much waiting to be born.
Blackberries not yet on the

bramble path, much less so
sweetening tarts and tongues.

Spring peepers chippering
moonlight — oh what a wonder to

be the pond that enjoys such a
buxom chorus. Sap waiting to

rise in rabbits and wolves  —
their winter stains bled and shed

for the next generation’s fur and
teeth. Wood violets and dandelion

laboring earth and leaf debris
— no less faithful the insects and

breezes that scatter their seeds
and gaiety. Wide vees of geese

to unzipper sky of cloud and fog,
percussing wings and wills of

summer grazing across fields,
streams and highways. Green,

pink and yellow ready to stir
northern gardens into tulips,

roses and corn. Yeast with water
and wheat rebirthing warm and

wrinkled hands — rises and yields.
Rises and yields. The soft dough

braiding Spring into Easter Bread,
Babka and Challah.

so much waiting to be born.


AG ~ 2017



Life Is About Moments

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Oh to live in a garden

where fancy flowers bloom

and are merry neighbors

with the weeds and wild ones.


Oh what fun

their chatter over and under

the picket fence

that listens in too.


Oh what a joy

to know that all

are welcome to play

and rest easy.


The breeze that bellows

the rain that floods

ivy that itches

and pollen that sneezes.


Nesting birds and those

on summer sabbatical

insects that fly and flutter

crawl and pierce.


Fox and raccoon

snakes and snails

a bear ambling for honey

in the hive that hums.


Walking barefoot

is essential and lying down

to sky-gaze through treetops

is a prayer.


Oh what grace to visit

such a garden

on a lovely Spring morning

or on the windowsill of your heart.



Of Twilight

Waxing Twilight

I feel the sap
rise in my body –
after all it’s Spring.
Or is it the rum
making me feel warmer
than the bedding sun
that I imagine slips away 
under the sheets
into the embrace 
of a waiting lover.

I like to think that
the moon and stars
are made of flesh 
and blood 
lust and longing.
Or is it that 
we are made
of sap and starlight
forgetting our own 
dawn and radiance.

What difference 
does it really make 
when I fall in love
so easily


pattering rain
the last of your saved letters
return to me

insects on their way to work lilacs

letting go
the dandelion
and me

bleeding heart
first spring
without you

despite your absence

just being

for Robin

ag ~ May 2013

Flower Speak


Flowers speak to us   in color ~ light ~ fragrance.





















Walk into the bloom – stay awhile.

Breathe in the beauty.  And breathe in the sky.















And while you are at it ~ smile back.  Life loves us!


ag ~ April 2013











Twas a great day for a woodsy hike along a stream in Jockey Hollow National Park.  George Washington and his troops camped here that frigid winter of the crossing of the Delaware to reverse the tide in favor of our fledgling nation.  On these days, remnants of that bygone era remain admist flora and fauna of a birthing spring.  I had to look hard for the emerging shoots (red and green) of skunk cabbage.  Water Striders were creating ripples on still water and delicate shoots of moss created mini-forests.  It was in the mid-fifties for the third day in a row and I could feel the sap rising in the trees and me.















































along the path

stones remember

for us


ag ~ March 2013